


Smile

by sugar_star



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, God Complex, Graphic Description, Graphic Violence, Mental Health Issues, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Original Fiction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Serial Killers, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:23:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9114883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugar_star/pseuds/sugar_star
Summary: There are monsters lurking in the night, one monster in particular has the law dumbfounded, and the powers that be working to put an end to it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on an idea I had a long, long time ago. I eked this out as fast as I could before I forgot.

Nights were usually cold in the city, wind whipping through endless mazes of skyscrapers, dancing on the coat tails and skirt hems of the people still pounding the pavement. It wrapped it's chilling embrace around everything, everyone, made the already lonely night sky full of nothing but light pollution and screaming horns that much more desolate. Anyone who wandered into the evening usually hated the thought of being out in the day, or was in an unconscious hurry to get home, huddle into their no doubt soft beds and sleep soundly until the sounds of morning broke the horizon with the strangled rays of the sun.

A snort left the far too chapped lips of a street walker before exhaling the artificial toxins from the dying cigarette between her clammy fingers. Her shoulders were hunched, skin covered with bumps from her body trying to ward off the chill snapping it's icy jaws at every inch of exposed skin she bore. Which was quite a bit, but it was what the sleazy old crones around these dead old streets liked, and it was what got her the food she needed to eat so that she wouldn't drop dead somewhere. Though sometimes she'd really just like to. The ragged female made sure to keep moving, it kept her warmer than if she just hung around her usual corners and waited for her usual "customers" to show up. It also kept her from thinking about the fuckers in the apartment buildings she was scrambling around out in front of, of how lucky they were and still probably whined to all of their little friends about how their lives were so hard. She took a long drag of the sick looking menthol cigarette before flicking it against the sidewalk and stomping it out.

Her sickly brown eyes glared at the dull sparks before upturning, sliding nearly closed as she exhaled slowly. She let herself savor the burn in her lungs, the smoke crawling down her throat into the organs only to billow back up and into the dirty city air, adding to the smog and gut retching smell of something that had probably died a long time ago and the city maintenance hadn't deemed enough for them to bother with. The smoke coiled and rolled with the breeze slipping under her skin, chilling her bones into a dull ache. She couldn't bring herself to care anymore, her darkened eyes sliding shut at the sight of the smoke faded on the breeze. Part of her just wanted someone to come already, so she could get this night over with. At least she would have a bed or something to sleep on until morning dawned and she was shoveled out of some married man's apartment before his probably cheating wife stumbled home. It would be better than having to sleep in the park again.

An extra chilly snap brought her eyes open again. The hard whip of the late autumn air drew a sigh from broken lips, her head only lolling to the side, her body slowly dragging her down into the sidewalk. It screamed, begged her to rest even if that meant freezing in the too tight, too restricting, material of the dress she had on. Even if it meant she wouldn't be able to stand for a while once the cold set into her joints. A hand weakly reached to rub at her cheek, dirt crusted nails skimming pale skin and sharp, pronounced cheek bones. Why couldn't God just take her already? Hell, she'd settle for dragging her sorry ass around limbo before she would dream of staying here, lungs choked on nicotine and car emissions, hungry, filthy, used. Anything would be a paradise in comparison.

A scuff along the pavement of the street to her left made her flinch, eyes darting over toward the silence breaking sound. All of her senses went into as much an overdrive as they could dim browns twitching, raking over the pavement, the shoes facing her way. They slowly dragged their way up over a slack pair of dark jeans that left hardly any of the sneakers peaking from under the fabric. Up, up until they hit a brown, zip-up hoodie. Up still, the zipper was only down to the start of chest, beneath the hoodie was white fabric. Collar bones poked from over the top of the v-neck cut. A long, thin neck. A surgical mask. Dark bags under brightly shining silver eyes that seemed almost ethereal, even in the dark, under dim and flicker streetlights. Pale skin that seemed to glow, stark and clean against the angry looking spots under their eyes. /Her/ eyes. A female, with otherworldly looks, an undercut, hair pulled tight into a long hanging ponytail. Blue, blue like the night sky should be without all of the city lights to clog it up.

This scrawny, dirty, ragged streetwalker found herself staring into those far too powerful steel eyes, swimming in molten metal, warm and tangible even from about twenty feet away on an empty city street. She was looking into the eyes of what looked like maybe an Asian woman. No, this wasn't just an Asian woman. This was someone, something, more than just a normal person. There was almost waves of calm pooling around her, slinking across the asphalt and broken concrete, twining itself up and around her legs, wiggling it's way inside her. The woman in the street wasn't doing anything but standing there in the smog darkened night air, just watching, not blinking.

And yet she was pulling her into the street. Willing her weak limbs to come with her. Pulling her by the arm to follow. Her legs moved almost on there own, part of her was screaming to run, this wasn't safe. Another part of her snorted at the notion that she was ever safe to begin with.

Another step. The woman from another world is closer now. They might even be breathing the same air now if it weren't for the mask covering her face.

Another step.

Another.

Silver pools of glowing, sparkling stars were boring so far into the nothingness of sick browns that she found herself nearly wanted to die right there. There was so much raw power, a wound up tension, burning, burning into her that every part of her was stock still, the wind not the only thing freezing her to the rough pavement. She let herself be lost in them. Let them lead her.

Ah, the lady was leaving. Slow, nearly soundless steps backward against the empty road, footsteps lost to the distant traffic of downtown, the screaming of a couple arguing somewhere, a baby wailing through an open window. Her naked feet followed, cutting under the occasional sharp bit of rock in the pavement. The molten warmth never left her, they somehow traveled like that. The woman never removed her gaze, never once blinked. It wasn't at all possible. Maybe the asshole who'd given her those nasty menthols had put something in it. The lady wasn't real, she was crossing an empty road, following a hallucination that only seemed to radiate warmth live a living body. Only moved like a real body because her mind knew how bodies moved. It was a slow walk, or it felt slow, like everything was suspended in the air on a caution string. Was she hanging on the something, a hope that this was real? Probably, but she had to give her imagination props for making someone up like this. She was used to blank faces, unwashed hair and putrid, smoke and coffee laced breath, those she saw every day since she was about thirteen. But the strange looking, probably not real person in front of her, was anything but those things, and she only secretly wished she was real.

Wait, she's stopping. That means her legs should stop too. But they don't. They advance, the woman still locking her down with those God forsaken eyes. They followed every extra step, drooped just a little. There was a lot of heat coming from this probably not real body that she had run into. There was a slow breathing, a rise and fall that matched a real human being's. There was something soft dancing over her own broken, dried blood caked lips, something like skin. A hand, a thumb attached to a hand that was gracing her skin with the warmest touches, warmer than she could even think up in a drugged haze. Another bit of warmth bloomed on the naked bit of her back where the dress parted into a design gap on her lower back. An almost drunken sigh tumbled away from her into the air, warm air. There was no biting chill. Everything was becoming warmer. Slowly. She welcomed all the warmth she could get.

Hands slid away, warmth wrapped it's way around her, like a thick blanket, canvasing whatever skin it could touch. Her limbs wanted to pool into the floor, liquefy and soak into the fabric to never be without it. The silver pools were gone, but she was warm now, warm for now.

Warm.

Cold.

There was something cold, biting her. She wanted it to go away, flinched away. And it left. Seconds later, it was warm again. Too warm, burning her skin. Searing flesh and boiling blood were a warmth had been only seconds before. Her lower back was on fire, weak sounds dribbled out of the corners of her mouth like child's spit, turning into sharp swears. She wanted to scream, leave, make it go away. But it only danced it's way up her skin, slipped through the strands of her dress to melt the fabric away in places that seemed random. The scorching heat drew patterns all over her. Landed in places she would rather not have it land. Boiled the insides, seared the veins. A slow drag of fire from her navel, to her chest, up again to her neck. Slapped against her broken lips.

Everything became too real too fast. The pain breaking any spell she'd been under. Her lips were on fire. Actually on fire. A brandished knife was alight with a scorching heat that had been run across her skin, then pressed against the already stinging pain in her lips. There were a lot of things wrong with where she was. The walls were too bright, blinding and white. How her eyes had ever adjusted enough to allow her access to this place was beyond her. There were mirrors around the room, she was definitely in a room, of various sizes, none of them had borders, just clean, spotless glass melting into the stark white walls. There was nothing else there. White, mirrors, her.

And a monster.

A monster with molten metal eyes, and a smile so sickeningly sweet that the blood in her body went cold before the white hot knife curved something similar onto her and boiled every ice water vein into red vapor.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always welcome.


End file.
